Page 104 of Full Circle

“B-but, sir,” the clerk stuttered, “that’s a million dollar check. That more than pays Mr. Madden’s bail and fees.”

The sheriff silenced him with an evil stare. “Are you questioning me?”

“Look,” I finally yelled out from my cell. “I am sorry for what I did. I take full responsibility for your shed and what happened last night, Chief. All I’m trying to do is get my girl, get my kid, and leave River’s Run. Let me out and I will pay for everything to be replaced.”

Hillsborough assessed me critically from across the room. He slowly approached, hand on his duty belt near the badge on his hip. “You’re prepared to take care of Celeste and Iris now?”

I nodded emphatically. He couldn’t possibly know how badly I wanted that.

“Then it sounds like you’ve finally grown up, boy,” Hillsborough said. “Ain’t no reason to be leaving your hometown if you can finally act the way a man is s’posed to.”

You could’ve knocked me over with a cotton ball. My jaw audibly dropped as I gawked at him like an idiot.

Another deputy opened the door for me so that I could join Phillip and Hillsborough at the front of the jail. My eyebrows were stuck on my forehead.

“Would you quit lookin’ at me like I’m the anti-Christ?” Hillsborough snapped.

“All this time, I thought you hated me!”

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t want some punk kid raising hell in my town,” Hillsborough explained. “But then Doug Hendricks died still believing in you. I’ve watched for years as his poor daughter suffered under the hands of that woman he married. If you’re willing and able to get Celeste and Iris away from her, then I reckon you’re all right. Nobody deserves to be treated the way they have been.”

The fact that even a douche canoe like Chief Hillsborough noticed how poorly my soulmate and my daughter were being treated made my blood boil. Not nearly as much as the call that came through the radio perched on the desk, however.

“All units respond. B and E at The Comfy Cushion. Possible SA. Victim ID’d as Celeste Hendricks…”

I was out the door before anyone could react, Phillip close behind. We tore down the county highway toward The Comfy Cushion faster than was legal, three sheriff cruisers hot behind me. Sirens blared, but I couldn’t really hear them. The dispatcher’s voice kept playing on loop in my head. “Possible SA. Victim ID’d as Celeste Hendricks.”

“Tell me what you know,” I screamed at Phillip, although I already had a sinking feeling in my gut of what he was going to say.

“There was never a restraining order,” Phillip said. He pulled a large manilla folder out of his briefcase and flipped through all the paperwork it contained. “Technically there shouldn’t have even been any charges against you. Turns out they were all going to be dropped, but your father paid the judge to keep them, then paid him again to put you on probation. Probably so that he could have some leverage over you.”

“FUCK!” I slammed my hand repeatedly on the steering wheel, nearly causing the car to swerve off the road.

My assistant scowled. “There’s more, but I’ll tell you when you aren’t in a position to kill me.”

If Celeste’s life weren’t in jeopardy I would have skidded to a stop in the middle of the road and smacked him until he spit it out. Right now, there were far more important things. I wouldn’t be able to process a word he said anyway until I knew that she was all right.

And whoever the motherfucker was who had done this to her, he better hope the cops found him before I did. That was the only chance he had of living through the night.

* * *

Outside the diner, Main Street turned into a scene out of Criminal Minds. There were squad cars, an ambulance with a pair of EMT’s, and two fire trucks. What they were doing, I hadn’t the faintest idea because there wasn’t so much as a flicker of a flame. Maybe everybody on duty just wanted to feel needed.

They wheeled Celeste out on a stretcher with a thick gray blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes were closed, her lips pale and trembling. Although there was no visible sign of trauma from where I screeched to a stop, that didn’t mean she wasn’t injured. My desire to incinerate the bastard increased tenfold.

A sheriff protested when I dove under the caution tape they strung up along the street, but I ignored her in my haste to get to Celeste.

“Tell me everything,” I demanded the paramedic wheeling the stretcher.

“Are you family?” he asked quizzically.

“Duncan Thompson, I beat your ass in tenth grade for talking shit about her and that’s gonna look like a toddler’s tantrum compared to what I’m about to do to you!” I’d never wanted to tear a man’s head clean off his body until today. “What the fuck happened?!”

I stepped back long enough for them to adjust the wheels and load the stretcher into the back of the ambulance before clambering in after them. Celeste’s hand was ice in mine; no matter how hard I squeezed, she did not give me a response.

“She’s been out cold since we arrived on scene. You’ll find out more at the hospital,” was all Duncan the Dumbass offered.

“Hey you!” I screamed up to the driver. “FLOOR IT!”

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